


Prayers and Headlines

by writergirl_107



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Band Fic, Character Death, Heartbreak, M/M, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl_107/pseuds/writergirl_107
Summary: Dean is an international teen singing sensation. An encounter in a club backroom changes his life. Can he save his failing image and Castiel?





	1. My Sin. . .

**Castiel**  
Bless me father for I have sinned. My sin?   
Pride.  
I smirked at this thought as I dropped to my knees. The pride was in knowing that this guy was about to receive the best blow job of his life. I pulled him closer to me, undid his belt, yanked his trousers down and swallowed his member all in a matter of seconds. I heard him gasp and smirked once more around his less than impressive size.   
My pride was not self inflated ego but stemmed from the guys who had been on the receiving end of my blow jobs. Every week when I turned up to the club they would beg me to do them again and every week, I would put my hand on their shoulder, drop my eyes to the floor and say "No repeat performances".   
I felt the guy pull at my hair and I rolled my eyes. I knew I was good but just once I'd like a guy who was able to last more than five minutes. I set a relentless pace and 30 seconds later the nameless guy exploded into my mouth. I spat out the salty liquid, stood, walked away and left the stranger leaning against the wall of the back room in post fellatio bliss. Like all the others, he would come find me and ask for my number or for a repeat performance. Upon denying him both requests, he would then go off, telling all his friends how great I was which would only add to the pride I felt. I was famous in the club for my blow jobs and so long as certain people didn't darken the doorway of this place, I would be able to keep my pride.   
After an hour of drinking and looking for a potential conquest, I was approached by one of the hottest guys I had ever seen. He was about six foot with emerald green eyes that shone with trouble and mischief. The word swoon came to mind. He leaned in close, his lips almost touching my ear.   
"I hear you're the blow job King"   
I fought back the grin as I replied to his statement by placing a trail of kisses from his ear all the way down to his neck. He gripped my shoulders and pushed me away.   
"Come with me now!"  
He took my hand and pulled me through the club. Eyes followed but I didn't care. This was going to be good. I could tell. He hid us in the darkest corner of the back room and pressed me against the wall. His kisses were fast and urgent and tasted of vodka. One hand held my wrists above my head while the other grabbed my ass and squeezed tight. I tried to fight for some dominance but that action was quickly met with a swot to my ass. I had never forfeited power before but I found I was harder than I had ever been in my life.   
"Someone is eager" he whispered as he cupped my crotch with the hand that had just spanked me. He dropped his hand holding my wrist, grabbed me by the waist and flipped us around so that he was leaning against the wall. Before I could fully comprehend the move he pulled, he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down. I felt the loss of his touch as he undid his zipper and untucked himself. As I opened my mouth wide, I realised he was the biggest I had ever had. In both girth and length. It made me shudder with pleasure. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he set a gruelling pace but I was able to keep up. I put my hands on his hips and all movement stopped.   
"Hands behind your back" he whispered sharply. I whimpered but I couldn't help get the feeling he got enjoyment from that.   
"And don't even think about touching yourself. I want to make you cum"   
Another whimper escaped my lips as I followed his orders without question. This guy was what I had been praying for every time I was on my knees. We had been going for about fifteen minutes when he tugged on my hair.   
"Oh baby. I'm close. I'm so close" he exclaimed. Just as he blew his load in my mouth, I was blinded by a camera flash. 


	2. Back to Basics

_**Dean's POV  
**_ **Dean Winchester caught with his pants down!** _ **  
**_I cringed when I saw one of the many tabloid headlines. Thankfully there was only one picture and it was of the guy kneeling in front of me. No full frontal shot of myself exposed or hanging out. I don't think I'd ever be able to live that down. I will forever be thankful that Benny, my security guard, was quick to throw a coat over me and get me to the car before a fuss could be made. Still. . .every time I thought of the guy, I found myself adjusting my pants.  
A trilling sound broke the silence and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head when I saw the name pop up on my caller ID. Sighing, I answered.   
"We are so done" Bela screamed in her British accent. I wanted to tell her we were over before we had even begun but I bit my tongue. With Bela, it was easier to let her have her tantrums and then brush them off. There were countless times she had yelled me over ridiculous things.   
"Who is he? Is it serious? No! Don't answer that Winchester!" I hated when she called me by my last name. To distract myself from the rant that was going on, I picked up another tabloid and scanned through the actual story. It suggested that Bela, a rising movie star, and I were having problems because we were so young and that I was just blowing off some steam.  
 _Understatement of the year!_  
"You're just a faggot" Bela spat through the speaker. Before I could say anything, she hung up. I groaned and began to hit my head off the table.   
"You'll make the hangover worse" Benny teased, appearing from the kitchen with a mug of coffee in hand.   
"Forget the hangover and get ready for the mother load of all damage control operations we've ever run" Jo, manager and cousin, declared as she too came from the kitchen.   
"This one won't be as easy to get over though. You're going to have to really be on your best behaviour. The label has give you your final warning. One more bad headline and you're axed. Thankfully I've come up with a brilliant plan and they've agreed to it."   
Jo was an angel and a saint. I really didn't give her enough credit for all she had done for me. She had made the photos of me drinking at 15 disappear and then the videos of me smoking a joint at 16 seem like an innocent mistake. What she said next made my stomach churn.   
"First you're going to release a statement saying you were drunk and it was a mistake. Next we're going to say that you were blowing off steam because you're stressed recording your third album. Lastly, due to this stress, you're going to say you're taking a break from the limelight and go back to school, You're telling everyone that you want to be a normal teenager and finish school at 18 like everyone else."  
School. I shuddered. I had never been academically inclined. Three tutors had quit on me. I would never last a year. Also, I wouldn't have a fair chance. Day to day life was hard enough as it was. I would be followed by every fan in that school and there would be a media storm and I wouldn't be around people who understood how hard life really was. People who understood me.   
"NO!"   
Jo looked up from her, unperturbed by my outbreak. She had been dealing with them the last three years. Although I would never admit it out loud, I had a short temper and it took nothing for me to blow a fuse. I hated school when I went. I couldn't go back. I'd rather look myself in a monastery than go back.   
"Too bad kiddo. The label has agreed, the statement written and the press waiting. Also mum and Bobby have said you can live with them and take up shifts in the bar. They could use the extra help and the place could use a little celebrity endorsement. Sam is excited for you to be home too."  
Oh she was good. Jo always knew which cards to play. All she had to say was Sam and I was putty in her hands. Anything he needed or wanted, I made sure he had it. Half my earnings were hidden away for him to go to college. He was dead set on becoming a lawyer and I'd be damned if that didn't happen. It also didn't help she mentioned Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby. She knew, like with Sam, I would do anything for them.   
"I don't have any other choice do I?"   
Jo smiled and moved from the seat across from me. She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.   
"Afraid not kiddo. Start packing. We head to the airport in two hours."   
My phone rang again. Seeing Bela's name flash, I found myself thinking, school might not be the worst thing in the world.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Non-con in this chapter.

**Castiel's POV**  
Please Lord smite me where I stand. I woke with the worst hangover ever felt by a human being. It was like there was a hammer in my head, my stomach had turned to a washing machine and throat was a desert of cacti that no amount of water could soothe. I was on hell on Earth and there was nothing I could do about it. To add insult to injury, I was stuck listening to my father preach about the sins of drinking to the small congregation. He spoke of the spiritual corruption and the sin and the path of the Devil. I thought his lecture would be much more convincing if he could inflict even half of what I was feeling. My mind zoned out of the words he was half shouting and back to the backroom of The Pink Elephant and the green eyed God I pleased. There was something so familiar about him but I couldn't figure it out.  
" **HELL FIRE!** " yelled my father, making me jump and pulling me back to the present. "Hell fire will consume you if you do not repent your sins." I _wish_ hell fire would consume me. It might relieve me of the blasted headache.   
  
Family dinner was a tense affair that evening after church. I had made my intentions know I didn't want to attend church earlier that morning and my father was still seething.If he could have it his way, I would stop going to school and instead, spend all my time in the church in a constant quiet state of begging for all my ungodly sins. Dinner was made even more uncomfortable by the fact that my phone was buzzing away constantly in the corner of the room.   
"My, my, my someone is popular tonight" my mother remarked disapprovingly. I shrugged my shoulders but knew better than to comment. There was a storm brewing and I wanted to keep it from coming for as long as possible.   
"Where were you last night Castiel?" my father asked. His tone was neutral but his eyes were angry, narrowed and zoned in on me. Swallowing my chicken, I turned and faced him eye to eye.   
"I was with Lucifer. I told you. We had a science project." Silence. Contemplation. A sigh.   
"Just make sure next time you're back before curfew. I don't want anymore arguments like the one this morning. Unless you are in hospital or dead, you will attend mass every Sunday. Am I clear Castiel?" my father asked sharply. Inside, I was dancing. I was expecting a lecture of epic proportions. Outside, I bowed my head and in an apologetic tone "Yes father. I understand."   
  
In my room, I leaned against my door and sighed. I kept reminding myself there would be a time when I would be in a college far away from our tiny town and I could be myself. I could go dancing and have friends over and read what I liked out in the open. I would be able to hold a hand, embrace a body and kiss a pair of lips. I would be able to be me. I would be accepted. I just had to hold on a little longer. Sighing, I slid down the door and clicked the screen of my phone. There were dozen of texts and a handful of missed calls. Before I could read any of the messages, Meg was blowing my phone up with yet another call.   
"Castiel Novak! Where have you been? The news is EVERYWHERE!"   
"What are you talking about Meg?"  
I pulled out my laptop and logged into my emails. Much like my phone, the inbox was full of messages from Meg and our other friend Charlie. Each subject title was "WHAT?" with about a dozen exclamation marks thrown in for good measure.   
"Castiel Novak and Lawrence's very own Dean Winchester" Meg drawled. My stomach dropped and my heart stopped. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and my breathing became hitched. Dread overtook me as I clicked open one of the emails. There, right on my screen was me on my knees for none other than Dean Winchester.   
"Do. . .does everyone know it's me?" I stuttered. I waited with held breath for the answer.   
"Nope. Only Bradbury and I do. We know that leather cord you wear wrapped your wrist. Tell me everything!"   
I sighed in relief and moved from the floor by the door, to my bed and flicked through the articles that Meg and Charlie had attached to the photo. As I told Meg all about Dean and our interactions, a message popped up on my screen.   
  
**Lucifer** : You coming over tonight?  
 **Me** : I don't think so  
 **Lucifer** : Why not? You said you would.   
**Me** : Parents have me on lock down tonight.   
**Lucifer** : You promised. You owe me.   
 **Me** : I'll see you tomorrow at school.   
  
I shut off the messages from Lucifer and as Meg recounted how her, Dean, Charlie and Sam used to hang out after school I clicked on one of the articles. It was the headline that had grabbed my attention.   
 _"It was all a mistake"_ read the title. The article went on to make Dean seem he was an innocent victim of child stardom and that he was just relieving stress. Two things jumped out at me and made my heart twist painfully. Two quotes. _"I wish to apologise profusely to my girlfriend. I never meant to cheat. It was not my intention to hurt her and for that I'm sorry."_ The second quote was two sentences. 9 little words. 9 little words that brought tears to my eyes. _"It was a mistake. It meant nothing to me."_  
Before I could ask Meg about Dean's girlfriend, there was a knock on my door and my mother stepped into my room. I shut the laptop quickly. Mother and father made it clear what they thought about Dean Winchester and his rock star antics. If they saw me looking at anything even remotely related to him, it would be a punishment like no other that I would receive.   
"Lucifer is downstairs. Says you two have more work to do on your science project. Such a nice young man. I'll send him up."  
Meg heard the whole conversation, said her goodbye and hung up. My stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot. The door was pushed open and there stood Lucifer. He was beautiful. Tall, blonde and strong. His grey eyes looked at me, much the same way my father's did. Cold and calculating. He said nothing but stood before me. I opened my mouth, about to say sorry but he grabbed my hair and pulled my head so that I was looking up at him from my sitting position on the bed.   
"We're not finished talking until I say we are. I said you owed me and you do. You don't get to decide when and where you pay me back. Now get on your knees like I thought you and take care of me."   
Tears stung the corners of my eyes but I followed his orders. Although they had faded, I could still feel the bruises from the last time I took too long doing what Lucifer asked. As Lucifer let go and allowed the feeling of me pleasing him to overtake him, my mind kept spinning the words of the article around and around. _"Mistake". "Nothing"_. Round and round they went. Spinning faster and faster. I shoved Lucifer further into my mouth in an attempt to make them stop and it worked for just a moment. Lucifer gasped, gripped my hair and thrust into my mouth quickly and with no rhythm. I tasted the salty substance and had to stop myself from gagging. Lucifer pulled out, pulled up his trousers and walked over to the door. Before leaving he glanced at me.   
"It means nothing to Dean Winchester. It means even less to me."  
The door shut and the tears that had threatened to spill earlier, came and came fast. I curled myself under my blanket, turned off my light and waited for sleep to claim me.   
  



	4. Switching Albums for Algebra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've switched from 1st person POV to 3rd person POV for various reasons.
> 
> Also, sorry for the very long break between posting the last chapter and this one. I cannot stress this enough, talk to someone if you're feeling down. It helps. It really does. 
> 
> Anyway, plan on posting at least once month going into the new year. Happy Holidays and a very Happy New Year to you and your loved ones xX

In a twist of events that no one could have predicted, Dean Winchester has announced he is to put the production of his 3rd album and his upcoming world tour on hold. Instead, he is returning to school and plans on graduating before returning back to the music scene.   
“Why is this framed?” Dean exclaimed as he looked at the back wall. It was a timeline of his life as told by headlines, broken up by album covers, original set lists and the guitars he had retired. From the onset he was able to pinpoint the exact moment he started to fall toward rock bottom and track how quick the fall was. The troubled teenage star. That’s what Dean was known as.   
“You’ll thank us one day honey” Ellen said, appearing behind him, wiping her hands on a rag. She looked over the wall and her eyes fell upon the one picture he had avoided looking at.   
“They’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” She wrapped an arm around and held Dean close as the tears he hadn’t realised he was holding back, fell in steady streams. Once his sobs had quieted to the odd hiccough, she pulled him into the kitchen and placed him in front of a chopping board with all the makings for cheese burgers.   
“I’ll do the patties and you do everything else. Sam and Bobby will be home by the time they’re cooked.”  
Despite his aversion to chick-flick moments, Dean’s heart filled with a happiness that was only felt when in the presence of family and he manifested this feeling by placing a kiss on Ellen’s cheek. She winked and together they hummed along to the classic rock songs coming from the tinny radio in the corner while making enough food to feed a small army. Normal. That’s the word that came to Dean’s mind. There were no cameras, no screaming fans, and no bodyguards. Here, in the kitchen of the Roadhouse, he was Dean Winchester. Not Dean Winchester, pop star supreme.   
As he was setting the table, a pair of arms wrapped themselves tightly around him, knocking his wind.   
“Ease up Sammy. Ease up. I need to be able to breathe if you want me to talk to you” Dean chuckled as he tried to release himself from his brother’s cobra tight grip. Sam only let go enough to turn the hug from a surprise behind to a proper arms around each other hug. Like his brother did earlier, Sam cried uncontrollably for a few minutes.   
“Why would you wait so long to see me? Christmas was nine months ago. I’ve missed you.” Guilt racked Dean. His throat constricted and his heart pounded fast against his chest.   
“I’ve no excuse Sammy. It’s been a rough few months. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you by going book shopping on Saturday. All the books you want.”  
“And lunch?”  
“Of course”   
Dinner that evening was a pleasant one. Jo emerged from her room and the five of them laughed, ate, drank and even got in a few rounds of cards before Ellen shooed them up the stairs. It was a school night after all, and no one was to be late getting up or they’d miss their shower slot and breakfast.  
  
Monday morning reared its ugly head with grey skies and cool drops of water falling from the darkening clouds. Despite this, Dean was in a good mood, singing The Immigrant Song in the shower and humming it while munching on his pancakes. He was going to be normal today. Getting to see old friends and hang with his brother. He had a good feeling. That was until Jo dropped the dreaded folder in from of him. The folder that contained a strict day to day, hour by hour schedule of where he was to be and who he was speaking to and what he was to wear.   
“Jo come on! The whole point of me going back to school was to escape all this” he grumped as he waved a hand at the black plastic folder.  
“We have to plan an appropriate outfit and what you’re going to say when you present a cheque to the school’s arts programme.”  
Dean stopped in his tracks. No one had mentioned anything about presenting a cheque. No one had mentioned anything about a speech. Instead of panicking and worrying, he decided that he was going to handle this the Dean Winchester way.   
“I’m happy in what I’m wearing” he said as he stood and modelled his black skinny jeans, old band tee and plaid shirt over it. Jo gave him a once over and nodded her head.   
“I suppose you’re better off blending in than standing out in designer outfits.”  
“And as for the cheque and speech. I’ve done that loads of times. I know what I’m doing. I know what to say and what not to say.”   
Once again, Jo nodded her head. She reluctantly agreed and snapped the folder shut. Dean sighed in relief. Maybe he would get a hold on being a normal teen.  
  
Bobby came into the kitchen, holding a set of keys up.   
“She’s yours boy” he grunted when he saw Dean’s eyes light up.    
Dean grabbed the keys and ran to the garage. Sleek, black and looking like home. He had missed his car. Unlocking it, he felt his heart jolt ever so slightly. Memories started to play in his mind like old black and white films. Pushing those feelings back down, he sat behind the wheel and took a breath. Today was going to be a good day. He had on his favourite t-shirt, a new pair of jeans and he was reunited with his baby.   
Sam climbed into the passenger seat, shoe box of cassette tapes in hand.   
“Ready?”  
Pulling AC/DC from the top, Dean smiled and turned the key. The engine roared to life, the guitar riffs loud in their ears and Dean laughed. For the first time in months, he was Dean Winchester. Just Dean Winchester.   
  
Lawrence High looked the same as it always had. Old grey building but sturdy and in the right light, somewhat handsome. Dean hesitated in the car. There was a stream of students and much like when he was preparing to go on stage, he felt a wave of panic begin to overtake him.   
“Hey it’s ok. I’m going to be by your side the whole way in” Sam said quietly. Dean exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding and released the steering wheel from his white knuckle hold.  
Nobody paid much attention to him in the hallways. Either they weren’t star struck or they had been warned by faculty to act normally. Dean was more than willing to make a large bet on the latter. Once he had all the registration papers filled in at the office, Sam showed Dean where his locker was and a small welcome party.   
Charlie, Meg and Chuck all threw their arms their best friend and did little to hide their excitement he was back.   
“Man I’ve been dreaming of this day since the papers reported it last week. It’s all anyone has been talking about around here” Chuck stated as he released Dean from a back breaking hug. So his guess had been right. There had been some kind of warning. Shrugging, he shut his locker and followed his friends to the auditorium.   
“Hey Sam, where’s Cas?” Charlie asked as she craned her neck over the crowd to try catch a glimpse of his dark hair.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s already in the hall. He was supposed to meet us at Dean’s locker.”   
Castiel. He interested Dean because Dean had never met him. He had arrived to Lawrence after Dean had left. He was also someone Sam would always mention when on the phone or Skype. It seemed he fit right into the space Dean had left when pursuing the high life of a teen star.   
“You’ll probably get to meet him at lunch” Sam said as he directed his brother into the hall and to the front row of seats which had reserved signs on them.   
  
It wasn’t long before the principal and the rest of the faculty began to shush the crowd of about six hundred. The principal, from his place on the stage and in front of the podium began making a speech about the school, its history and notable students who had gone on to do great things. Honestly, Dean couldn’t have cared less. He was actually keen to start learning and attend a real class. He didn’t want all this pomp and bother but plastered a grin to his face. This was probably the most excitement the school had gotten since part of it burnt down in the late 80s. A fire, while not proven, was suspected to have been started by one John Winchester.   
The time came for Dean to step up on stage and make his presence known. He took a steadying breath and stood before the entire school.   
“That was a lovely welcome Mr. Turner. I appreciate that you have asked and the students have respected the fact that I’m here to learn and get my degree just like everyone else but at lunch times, I won’t mind posing for a photo or signing an autograph. After all, I do take care of my fans.” Dean winked and paused for a moment while there was a roar of applause.  
Once the crowd became quiet Dean spoke again and Sam brought an oversized cheque onto the stage.   
“Now as you all know, I chose a career in the arts. A career that so far, has been very rewarding. I was lucky for the opportunities presented to me and I would like to create as many opportunities for as many people as is possible. For that reason, I will be donating $50,000 to the maths and science department and $50,000 to the music and art department. I will also be performing here on Friday afternoon.”  
There was another cheer. This one louder. People clapped, shouted and stomped their feet. It was no secret that the school’s facilities were in need of dire repair or replacement.   
Principal Turner shushed everyone but did little to hide his own smile. He gestured to the other side of the stage.   
“Mr Novak, as student body president, would you like to accept the cheque on behalf the student body?”  
Dean took the cheque from Sam and turned to hand it to Castiel when he came face to face with the same blue eyes he had in the club in a few weeks earlier.   
“Hello Dean”


End file.
